


Miraculous Ladybug: Broken Wings

by ScreamingAtoms



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Growth, F/M, Friendship, Multiple Perspectives, No Smut, Romance, Tragedy, grey characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingAtoms/pseuds/ScreamingAtoms
Summary: Hawk Moth's latest scheme leads to the untimely death of Chloé Bourgeois. In a story about grief and consequence, both hero and villain must wrestle with the reality of their actions, their relationships, their purpose. How will tragedy change them? How far will they go to bend the fates of the Miraculouses? What is the human cost of their conquests? Are they willing to pay?
Relationships: Emilie Agreste & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. To Take Something Beautiful

The golden-haired children pranced among the flowers, grasping at the sky with their pale, chubby hands. Just beyond their reach, a white butterfly flew. It danced across the petals, a pied-piper for the toddler brigade. Gabriel couldn’t help but chuckle. He had thought that he might rescue the kids from the rough-and-tumble life of Paris’ bustling streets, but it would appear that they brought the rough-and-tumble with them. On cue, one of them careened into the earth sending muddy shrapnel into the air.

“Mommyyyyyyy,” the young girl wailed. Gabriel glanced to his left. The young girl’s mother was several feet from the park bench with a cellphone pressed to her ear. Her back was to Gabriel, but he could tell that she wasn’t very happy. Her hands gestured sharply as she berated whoever was on the other line, the occasional bark of her voice rising above the rustling tree leaves. Gabriel smiled to himself. He rose from the park bench and started towards the fallen girl. It was not within Audrey’s nature to concern herself with the “prattlings”, as she put it, of either her husband or daughter. This was especially so when fashion was on the line, which it almost always was with her. But he knew she meant well in her own way, otherwise, why else would she agree to attend a playdate between their two kids?

Gabriel approached the young girl hunched over in the grass. She was sobbing wildly, begging for her mother between heavy gulps and hot tears. Squatting down, Gabriel reached out his hand and rubbed her shoulder. “It’s ok Chloé, I’m here.” The girl peeled her face from the ground and gazed up at Gabriel. Dirty tear streaks stained her cheeks with patches of dirt dusting her forehead and chin. Her hair was already unruly, with purple petals and leaves jutting out from her scalp. Her mother would have a stroke, to put it lightly. But Gabriel was used to his fair share of messes with Adrien. 

He looked over and saw his son giggling to himself on the ground, nursing the captured butterfly in his hands. Evidently, he had succeeded in his hunt… at the cost of his $600 cardigan, which clung in shambles to his now sticky arms. Sighing, Gabriel turned his attention back to Chloé. “Now, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Sniffling, the young girl wiped at her eyes.

“I-I just wanted the butterfly and it made me fall a-and it hurt.”

“It made you fall?” 

Chloé nodded her head morosely, “Yes.” 

Gabriel paused for a moment, “How did the butterfly make you fall?”

“I-it flew too fast!” The girl angerly retorted, “If it just let me have it, I wouldn’t have tripped!” Gabriel smiled knowingly. He helped Chloé to her feet and braced his hands on her shoulders.

“Now, Chloé. I know that butterfly is very pretty and beautiful. It’s nice to have beautiful things, isn’t it? The girl nodded her head softly. He continued, “But sometimes, if you take something that is beautiful…” he looked again over at his son. A sober look had smothered the boy’s wide grin. In his open hands was the butterfly. Next to it was one of its iridescent wings, detached and broken. Gabriel’s face dimmed slightly. He looked back at Chloé. “… if you take something that is beautiful, you can steal what made it beautiful in the first place.”

Chloé’s brow furrowed, “I don’t get it.”

Reaching behind her, Gabriel plucked the girl’s bright yellow hairclip from the ground. He wiped the dirt from it and gently fitted it back to her hair. “You will someday. You’re a Bourgeois. You don’t need to take beauty, you make it.” Chloé’s face broke into a wide grin. Before Gabriel could react, she was pressing her muddy face into his white suit jacket, her little arms clinging tightly to his neck. Wordlessly, he hugged her back. A powerful, raw feeling surged in his chest and flooded his thoughts. _I will protect you as my own. ___

__***_ _

__Their mouths moved but no sound came. Ringing. That’s all he could hear as he watched on helplessly. One was screaming, the other silently kneeling next to the figure. Dirt dusted her cheeks, her forehead, her chin. Her hair was unruly, with red liquid haloing her twisted locks. Just beyond the macabre display, a bright yellow hairclip glistened in the startling sunlight. By all accounts, it was a gorgeous day. If this were a painting, its stark colours juxtaposed with the morbid context would have found a welcoming home on Gabriel’s wall. But this wasn’t a painting. This was not art, yet Gabriel was the artist, his signature was written across the stunned face of Volpina, still perched upon the parapets of the Bourgeois residence._ _

__“Hamh… Mamph… Hak… oth… Hawk… Moth… HAWK MOTH!” The girl was shouting his name repeatedly into the purple mask, but it took Gabriel a few moments to process her cries. “Hawk Moth, what do we do!? WHAT DO I DO!?” He attempted to answer but found it impossible to speak. All that tumbled from his open mouth were haggard tufts of air, nothing resembling French. The man known across Paris for his dramatic soliloquies and monologues was for once, silent. After a few more moments of listening to her master choke on his words, Volpina hung up. Grunting angerly, she lept backwards, swiftly retreating across the Parisian rooftops. Her haste was unnecessary, no one moved to follow._ _

__The young man that had been screaming earlier drifted over to his silent companion. Falling to his knees, he braced his face against her shoulder. Racking sobs struck the air as he shuddered against the girl. She was a statue, stoic, unmoving. Gabriel was fumbling with his tablet, rapidly swiping the screen, searching for an active CCTV camera with a view. With Volpina having fled the scene, Hawk Moth was effectively blind, only attuned to the despair that was suffocating the plaza. Finally, he found an angle with visual of the mourners… and the victim. Tapping at the device feverishly, Gabriel zoomed in on their faces. Their features may have been blurry, but their devastation was unmistakeable. After all these months of fighting, Gabriel had never seen his adversaries look so broken… and he couldn’t stomach it. Normally he would have delighted in their malaise, a sure sign of his inevitable victory._ _

__But this was not victory._ _

__Not since the loss of Emilie had a sadness so great come hurdling down upon his shoulders. Gabriel dragged the video feed from Ladybug and Chat Noir to the victim before them. He had estimated that collateral was inevitable in his mission to correct the past… but never had he imagined it would go this far. He knew to keep a watchful eye on Adrien, he would never let anything happen to him, not since losing his wife….__

 _ _Gabriel dropped his cane and slumped to his knees. His face was half-lit by the tablet still gawking up at him from his lap. The shadows hid his tears better than his mask. There was only one other in the world that he had sworn to protect as aggressively as Adrien, a promise that had become lost to time._ _

__Gabriel looked down once again at the tablet. “Chloé… I’m sorry… I-I….” He raised a gloved hand to his face, cradling his temple. Chloé’s countenance still shone prominently through the screen. She looked eerily peaceful. For one so at home with biting jabs and pretentious snarls, it was uncanny to see her gilded in serenity. Gabriel had always known of this hidden quality of the Bourgeois family. Her mother had it and she had it too. But Chloé never seemed to grasp that._ _

__Hair… clothes… makeup… style… these were the ways that she thought she was beautiful. The ways in which she strove to instill beauty, to embody it. And here she lay, stained in blood and dirt. Her limbs splayed at horrific angles. The bright yellows of her outfit were markedly dimmed by debris, even in the mid-afternoon sun. The impact had been merciless._ _

__An image of Adrien holding the injured butterfly echoed in Gabriel’s mind. He looked down at his hands as they trembled, open palms facing him. It was as if he was holding the torn wings that held Chloé so high. A sob escaped his lips. Clutching a glove to his mouth, he began to weep. By his own adage, he had stolen her beauty. He had stolen her life._ _

__“HAWKMOTH!” Chat Noir was now standing, fists clenched at his sides, gazing up into the sky. “I know you can hear me! You’ll pay for this… you hear me!? YOU’LL PAY!” His voice was hoarse and guttural, nothing resembling his usual plucky register. Ladybug rose from Chloé’s side and turned to Chat Noir. Concern was knitted heavily across her face._ _

__“Chat….” She raised her hand to his shoulder. Without uttering a word, the boy turned away and bounded off. Detaching his staff, he drove it into the ground and vaulted above the city line. He was gone within seconds. Ladybug continued to stare where Chat Noir disappeared, her outstretched hand lowering slowly. A woman in blue strode up to the young heroine._ _

__“E-excuse me, Ladybug? I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We’re going to take this young lady back to St. Louis Hospital, ok? But we need everyone clear so we can do our job.” Ladybug nodded and began to trudge away. She cast a look back at Chloé where a squad of paramedics were already loading her onto a stretcher. Just as they got her to the ambulance, Ladybug saw someone begin to pull a white sheet across her body. She turned away.__

__

__What was she expecting? She already knew that Chloé was dead. She had checked for a pulse immediately after Chloé hit the ground. Even if she had caught Volpina and captured her akuma, it wouldn’t resuscitate her. The Miraculous Cure ability did not bring people back from the dead. It was capable of many feats: structural repairs, memory wipes, rejuvenation, healing. But the undoing of death? Such was an ability relegated to the most powerful of kwami magics: The Ultimate Miraculous Power. That was, of course, out of the question. Should she and Chat Noir use their Miraculouses to wish Chloé back, another’s life would be extinguished in her place. As Guardian, such knowledge was hers to bear, to know that the Miraculouses could undo any mistake, but to never use them that way lest they all suffer the price._  
_

__Ladybug rounded the corner and ducked into a secluded alleyway. “Spots off.” Before Tikki had fully materialized, Marinette was already sliding to the ground, back against the wall. Not one word was spoken as the two friends held each other, sinking deep into the sorrow that had befallen the city._ _

__That day, the Miraculous War had claimed its first human life. That day, Hawk Moth had gone too far._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I fell in love with Miraculous Ladybug's bubbly atmosphere, but always imagined what it would be like with a darker tone. So, here is my attempt at just that.
> 
> Most of the characters follow their canonical representations with some slight tweaking (Gabriel being a prime example). I will at times add history that may not be in the show to better the story, so I in no-way claim that I am abiding by the show's lore canon. Please give me any feedback you all may have (writing style, plot development, etc.), I am doing this for both fun and to improve my writing!
> 
> This is my first published fanfic (and time really taking part in a fandom) so I hope you all like it :)


	2. The Agreste Rancor

The sound of metal scraping upon ceramic was all that could be heard. It reverberated dully across the large dining room, mingling against the far recesses of the vaulted ceilings. Nathalie’s heart panged with every vibration. She stood at the other end of the dining hall, hugging her work tablet dutifully to her chest. To be caught standing idle was not custom for the busy-body assistant, but the scene rooted her still.

It was Adrien. There he sat, picking at his food, his lithe frame tinged orange by the dying light of the window. It was not uncommon to find him gloomily playing with his food. Almost every day, he asked Nathalie if his father was joining him for dinner. The answer was seldom yes. Her heart quietly broke for him each time she delivered the news. Despite being loved so strongly by his father, he never seemed to feel it. But today was different. His typical melancholy was replaced by something far more potent, far more suffocating.

It was only yesterday that Chloé’s death had been confirmed to all of Paris. Chloé… Adrien’s childhood friend, the one that never seemed to want to leave his side. She was gone. His mother… and now her.

Nathalie closed her eyes. She had always done her best to support Adrien in being with his friends. With his father so busy, in more ways than he could know, it was hardly surprising that he garnered little nourishment from his familial interactions. Gabriel had been difficult to sway, but Nathalie worked overtime coordinating schedules with all of Adrien’s mentors and confirming chauffeuring schedules with his bodyguard so that he could attend school with his friends. Adrien had never looked so happy, at least not for a long time.

But now, things were difficult. Classes had been immediately cancelled for the students of Collège Françoise Dupont to allow time to grieve. His best avenue for being with his friends was not only removed but damaged. With Chloé gone, Nathalie was sure it would be trying for Adrien to go back to school. But holing up in this house wasn’t good for him either. He needed time to grieve, but he also needed support and love. Gabriel was in no state to offer such things to his son… even more so now than usual.

Drawing in a quick breath, Nathalie stepped into the room. The clacking of her heels against the tiled floor drowned out the pitiful sounds of Adrien prodding his plate. He didn’t even look up when she arrived at his side.

She cleared her throat, “Adrien, you should eat. You didn’t touch your previous two meals.”

“I’m not hungry.” He continued to jab at his carrots. Nathalie sighed. She pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. Bracing her elbows on the chestnut tabletop, she regarded him softly.

“Adrien… I-I know that I couldn’t possibly know what you’re going through. I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you.” The boy kept his gaze pressed to his dish. He had molded his mashed potatoes into some kind of starch fort.

“It’s fine Nathalie. I’m fine.” He was anything but fine, that much was clear to her. It stung Nathalie to see him block her out. Adrien was normally so open… though she was also privy to his entire schedule… and always kept tabs on his location… he really hadn’t much to hide to begin with, did he?

“Adrien… if you need to speak with someone, about anything, I’m always here to-“

_Slam!_ “-I said I’m FINE!” Adrien had launched to his feet with both hands pressed firmly against the table. He was breathing heavily.

“A-Adrien I-“

“Just, stop. Just stop Nathalie. You don’t really care, you’re just here because my father couldn’t be bothered to be a parent. You’re not my mom, you’ll _never_ be my mom.” Shoving his chair back, Adrien stormed past Nathalie. Just before he cleared the room, he stopped. His head slumped slightly. “I-I’m sorry Nathalie. I just need to be alone right now.” And with that, the boy was gone.

Nathalie was fused to her spot. She could easily have been mistaken as one of the many sculptures that peppered the Agreste mansion. After a few solitary moments, Nathalie gently lowered her head onto her clasped hands. It was exhausting bearing the consternation of one Agreste let alone two. Speaking of…. Nathalie pulled herself to her feet.

Even though it wasn’t scheduled, she thought she might drop in and see how the senior Agreste was holding up. He had taken Chloé’s death especially hard, given the circumstances. Propping her tablet against her hip, she made for Gabriel’s office. As she passed the dining room’s aperture, she signalled to one of the custodial staff to clear away Adrien’s leftovers. She had arranged for all household food waste to go into a composter installed near the kitchen. What the staff didn’t know was that the composter piped to a collection site within Gabriel’s hidden underground chamber. They had to feed rows upon rows of plants to sustain the butterflies without drawing too much attention. It would look peculiar dragging bags of compost into Gabriel’s lavish atelier. Though of course, food waste alone wasn’t enough.

Nathalie approached the door and rapped upon its cold frame. Not too hard but not too soft. About 56% of her arm strength. Two knocks spaced roughly 0.6 to 0.8 seconds apart. It took her about a week to notate all the variables that went into grabbing Gabriel’s attention. He was a very particular man, but not so as to provide metrics so precise. That was Nathalie’s handywork. Gabriel hated repeating himself and she hated wasting time. It was a harmonious arrangement.

“Sir?” she announced, “It’s me, may I come in?” No response. Nathalie paused, counting the seconds, then repeated her knocking pattern. “Sir?” More silence. It was apparent that he was not in his office. But Gabriel was not one to arbitrarily stroll around his expansive abode, not when he had Nathalie to do it for him. No, at this hour, he was either in his atelier… or below it.

Nathalie pulled the heavy doors apart and slipped into the room. As expected, Gabriel was not there. The assistant cast her eyes about the room as she stepped inside. At quiet moments like these, Nathalie didn’t pass up the opportunity to appreciate the décor. Part of the perks of working with an internationally renowned fashion designer was having front row seats to his creations. She was normally so busy tending to Gabriel that she hardly had a chance to admire his frequent redrafts of the atelier space.

Presently, it was comprised of black and white marble, with gold trimming lining the room. A modern white glass table sat at its centre, accompanied by plush white and pink sofas. The wall to her right showcased some of Gabriel’s choice fashion pieces of the year. Those were frequently updated. At the far end of the room was a golden portrait flanked by two heavily curtained windows. A broad white computer terminal positioned at chest level was planted just a few feet from Nathalie. This was where Gabriel conducted most of his business, it even housed the mansion’s security software. Just behind this terminal was Nathalie’s target – a large picture of Emilie Agreste.

As she walked up to it, she couldn’t help but glance at the remaining wall to her left. It was the only part of the room that never changed besides Emilie, a gallery of Adrien’s modeling pictures. In each frame was a different emotional affect: sombre, bubbly, aloof, playful, euphoric. But in every photo, no matter the theme, his eyes held a light to them. Nathalie shook her head. Perhaps she was reading too deeply into them. But she couldn’t help but feel that the Adriens on the wall had a quality to them that the Adrien of today couldn’t access. Her brow creased. That last thought tasted bitter. Adrien wasn’t some half-filled puzzle, he was a complete person that suffered a great trauma. To expect that he should somehow go back to the way he was dismissed the inevitable change such events brought. She would be there for him no matter what path he carved for himself, that she knew.

Raising her arms, Nathalie flexed her fingers and slotted them into buttons concealed within the portrait. The ground beneath her feet shuddered. Suddenly, she watched the floor rise above her head as she was lowered into the bowels of the Agreste mansion.

Darkness. Nathalie always hated the first few seconds of the descent; she was not fond of the dark. Particularly the kind where no light could seep through. The lower chambers were heavily fortified with 8 feet of steel lacing its perimeter. When Gabriel had initially introduced Nathalie to the lower chambers, she thought he was paranoid. How would anyone be able to find this place, much less be able to break in? Then she came to learn of the Miraculouses and their power. She ran a finger over the Peacock Miraculous she kept hidden in her breast pocket. It never ceased to amaze her that something so small could harbour so much energy, much less another life form. She was excited to see what other mysteries the Miraculous world held in store.

Light began to stream from under Nathalie’s feet. Within moments, she had a view of the entire chamber. Unlike the rest of the mansion, this room was lackluster. Cool. Practical. Only that which was functional occupied the area. Steel beams enveloped the walls like cobwebs, meeting at single point in the centre of the dome-like roof. A walkway yawned out from the base of the elevator with powerful lamps lighting its path to the far end of the chamber. There the path widened into a circular plateau garnished with vegetation. The mysterious garden enclosed its prize at the heart, a strange metallic tube, twice the length of an average person. The metal tube was coated in crimson light flushing in from a large circular window embedded on the wall just above the garden. Its frames were twisted to form a butterfly in the middle of the glass.

The butterfly.

A faint smile touched Nathalie’s stony features as the lift glided to a stop. Gabriel had grown to be so fond of such creatures. Ever since he encountered the Butterfly Miraculous, he had poured time and attention into studying their physiology, their reproductive habits, their mythos. Why was the butterfly associated with an awakening of others? Of their abilities? Of their dreams? Of their emotions? The answer, he once expressed to her, had come from the source of all his clarity, Emilie. Having to sustain her in that pod… he realized it was much like a cocoon. When that day arrived when he finally achieves his wish, Emilie may spring from her chrysalis, ever more beautiful than before. Relieved of the past, endowed with the promise of a fresh beginning. The way Gabriel talked about it… Nathalie couldn’t help but feel her chest flutter at the notion. It was so terribly, painfully romantic. That’s why she would never leave his side, that’s why she would do _anything_ for him as he would Emilie. For with Gabriel attending to Emilie and with Emilie unable to reciprocate, who was there to attend to Gabriel?

Nathalie’s back straightened slightly. Her gait elongated. For a few precious moments, she was granted brief reprieve from the tribulations that burdened the household. She allowed her mind to fill with tender thoughts for Gabriel. All she wanted was for him to be happy. To remember what it was like before all this had happened. He would… she would be sure of that.

Stepping off the walkway, Nathalie immediately spotted Gabriel. He had been obscured from her vantage point upon the lift, having been concealed by overhanging vegetation. He was propped against Emilie’s pod, just to the side. For a man of such refined conventions, seeing him sprawled upon rugged steel was… unorthodox to say the least. He too held his gaze down, much like Adrien. The parallels were not lost upon Nathalie as she regarded him. Both wore their sadness similarly: aloof, guarded, and so obviously in pain. The only difference here was that Gabriel’s eyes weren’t puffy from crying like Adrien’s. The senior Agreste rarely offered his emotions, especially those most vulnerable. Nathalie regarded herself as lucky to be acquainted with his intimate side. Though, he was still loath to participate in such displays, hence why his breakdown yesterday was such an anomaly.

He already appeared himself. Slicked back hair, pressed suit and slacks, fashionable shoes, a smattering of makeup. Though, Nathalie hadn’t seen him wear white in some time. Both his suit jacket and shoes were the same stark shade. Nathalie thought this odd, wasn’t it custom to wear black when one was in mourning?

“Are you just going to stand there, or did you need something?” Nathalie jerked to attention, not realizing how long she had been standing their staring at Gabriel.

“Y-yes sir. Sorry, sir-“

“Was there an appointment I missed?”

“No, no… I just came by to see how you were doing. I’ve already finished rescheduling all your meetings to at least two weeks from now. I also got the spring launch postponed as requested.”

Gabriel kept his head glued to the floor. “Very good Nathalie. And I’m fine. I just need to be alone right now.”

“Your son said the same thing.” Gabriel’s face melted into concern as he raised his eyes to Nathalie’s.

“You spoke to Adrien? How is he?”

Nathalie adjusted her spectacles. “He’s… he’s not doing very well. I tried speaking with him and he pushed me away. He seems upset with you.”

“Upset? With me? Why?” Sighing, she drew over to Gabriel and lowered herself next to him.

“He… this is a really hard time for him. He just lost one of his close childhood friends, and… well, he didn’t have many friends to begin with before going to school. Losing a friend is probably one of the most devastating that could happen to him.”

“Well, where are his other friends then? They should be doing more to be there for him. I knew they weren’t good enough, especially that… er… Nano?“

“-Nino.”

“Yes, him. The one who makes every attempt to subvert Adrien’s security with frivolous house parties. But how does this have anything to do with me?”

“I was getting to that.” Nathalie turned to face Gabriel directly. “Your son has not only lost his mother, but now Chloé. Both were people who have supported him for most of his life. Now, he only has you.”

“Yes, I take my role has his father very seriously Nathalie. You know that.”

“Of course, sir. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t. I know you are doing all that you can for him.” Nathalie gently placed her hand on Gabriel’s knee. “But Adrien doesn’t see that. He doesn’t know anything about your past with Chloé or what you are going through right now. All he sees is an absent father. A father he needs desperately right now.”

Gabriel suddenly jerked his knee from Nathalie’s hand. “I _am_ there for him.” Rising to his feet, the fashion mogul glowered at his assistant. “I’ve been working for the last 24 hours to make sure that Adrien has everything he needs. I’ve personally revised his food plan to only include his favourites for the next two weeks. I’ve arranged for his fencing, mandarin, and modeling lessons to occur here on the residence so that he doesn’t have to venture out. I’ve even contacted every accredited therapist in Paris to arrange therapy so that he doesn’t walk out of this in a mental health crisis. I’ve done more than most fathers would. You do well to remember that.”

Before Nathalie could protest, Gabriel was already storming away. As he thundered across the catwalk back to the lift, Nathalie couldn’t help but look helplessly after him. _Gabriel… that’s not what I meant._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this part! Will be working on the next chapter here shortly. Please feel free to share any feedback, I'd appreciate it :)


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